Anything You Can Do
by pinkeop
Summary: Sweeney Todd and Mrs. Lovett duke it out. Sweenett if you squint.


**title** Anything You Can Do...

**author** pinkeop

**summary** Sweeney Todd and Mrs. Lovett duke it out.

**authors note** I'M SO SORRY YOU GUYS!! Finals and sucking the LIFE out of me. I took my first two today. Everything should be done by Thursday, after which I will have more time to pay attention to my adoring fans.

So, sitting at the breakfast table in the canteen with my friend Cody, we sang "Anything You Can Do ( I Can Do Better )" and I thought, "I MUST do this fic!"

It's sort of a response to the video, "Sweeney Can Do Anything Better Than You" on Youtube. It's HYSTERICAL.

Soooo, everybody, Enjoy!

Love!

Pink Elephants on Parade.

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**Anything You Can Do... **or, **Sweeney Can Do Anything Better Than You**

Mrs. Lovett was day dreaming again. While somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she should have been doing the dishes, or the laundry, or getting to the corpses down stairs, it was much more satisfying to be cleaning the store ( for the second time over ), where she was free to let her mind wander.

It was such a nice day. The baker hated to be stuck inside, doing the chores. It was Sunday and all she would be doing was cleaning and chopping up corpses... which was, in her opinion, the epitome of anti-fun. But there was work to be done- always work to be done. And Mrs. Lovett was painfully reminded of that as the sound of foot steps from up above hinted that there was an entire load of laundry that needed to be washed clean.

The foot steps moved to the stairs before Sweeney Todd entered the shop, looking extremely digruntled. Then again, there was rarely a time where he was not as such.

"Mornin', love!" Mrs. Lovett said brightly, looking up from where she was scrubbing the counter raw with a cloth, simply spreading around the soapy water instead of doing the flour-stained wood much good.

"_Afternoon_, Mrs. Lovett," Mr. Todd said gruffly.

"Oh, my..." the baker murmured, raising one hand to rub the back of her neck. "Where's the mornin' gone?"

"Have you the shirts I gave you to wash?" Mr. Todd questioned as he stepped furthered into the house. He did not look in the mood for her dawdling and Mrs. Lovett tried not to look too sheepish.

"Dont believe I've gotten ta them yet, love..." she admitted quietly.

Mr. Todd grunted. "Where are they? I'll do it meself."

"Oh, don't be silly!" Mrs. Lovett exclaimed, dropping down the cloth onto the counter, moving around it to wrap an arm around his shoulder, having to level herself on her toes to do so. Damn man, towered right over her! She menuvered him easily into the booth, where he sat quite heavily.

"Yeh wont know a lick about gettin' them stains out of yeh shirt." She went on, patting his shoulder. "I'll clean up here in the shop then I'll get right on it."

"Mrs. Lovett," Mr. Todd said dully. "I believe I can manage quite easily to clean a few shirts."

Mrs. Lovett snorted. "Course, deary. Never the less, let me tend to it for yeh."

"Are you suggesting I can't do my own laundry?" Sweeney Todd snapped. The baker jumped slightly, her entire body some what stiffened. After a long moment, she shook her head, not wanting to get him all in a tiff.

"S'not wot I'm saying..." she said slowly. "Juss sayin' I can do the laundry quicker and cleaner than yeh, is all..."

"Mrs. Lovett, anything _you_ can do, I most certainly can do, and better at that, might I add." Mr. Todd grunted, staring almost dismally out the shop window, as if the conversation at hand did not particularly interest him. As if he was simply stating common knowledge.

Mrs. Lovett laughed. "Mr. T, the only thing yeh can do any better than me is slittin' throats, and we both know that's only 'cause me gentle heart is too kind."

"Is that so?" Mr. Todd said distractedly.

"I can do anything better than you," Mrs. Lovett stated.

Sweeney Todd turned his eyes onto the baker with a almost dark look in his eyes. His winding white streak was off to the side of hir alabaster face, his black, wild strands framing his cheeks. Mrs. Lovett was temporarily winded.

"No you can't." Mr. Todd stated.

Mrs. Lovett's momentary distracted dazzlement was broken and her hands went to her hips, one hip stuck to the side as she leaned towards him. "Yes, I can." She said, just as sure.

"No, you can not." Sweeney Todd said again. Mrs. Lovett scowled and huffed at the smug look on the barber's face.

"Yes, I can!" she said, her voice a bit shrill.

"Mrs. Lovett," Mr. Todd said smoothly. "Anything you can be, I can be greater. Sooner or later, I'm greater than you."

She snorted. "That's thinkin' mighty high on yehself, Mr. T. I wonder how yeh got that big ol' head o' yours through me shop door."

"Feeling malevolent today, are we?" he shot back. "I am superior, my pet."

"Oh yeah?" Mrs. Lovett challenged.

"I can shoot a partridge, with a single cartridge." Mr. Todd stated, not exactly proudly, but matter-o-factly, his smug look gone, replaced with an almost bored look. Mrs. Lovett sneered.

"I can get a sparrow with a bow and arrow." She boasted.

"No, you can't," Mr. Todd stated planly. Mrs. Lovett paused.

"Yeh're right." She muttered.

Mr. Todd's face looked pinched for half a moment, like he was fighting off the urge to laugh _at_ her. Of course, it would a cruel, disagreeable laugh, but the mere thought warmed Mrs. Lovett's heart. Moments later, it was gone, and he gave her a pointed look.

"I can do most anything," he said.

"Can yeh bake a pie?" She challenged. It was his turn to sneer.

"You know very well I can not," he snapped. Mrs. Lovett's face broke into a grin.

"Neither can I," she amended.

"I can drink my liquor faster than a flicker," Mr. Todd said, pushing himself to his feet. Mrs. Lovett found she had taken a few steps closer to him. A challenge.

"I can do it quicker," Mrs. Lovett said with a smirk. "And get even sicker."

"I can live off bread and cheese," the barber snarled, encoaching on her personal space. She found herself having to back up until her lower back was touching the edge of the counter. And still he took those slow deliberate steps towards her.

"And only on that?" Mrs. Lovett asked.

"Yes," the barber hissed.

She grinned. "So can a rat."

It was then she found herself having to swing out of the way, for where she had once been standing his hand came down with brute force on the edge of the counter. For a moment she was struck scared.

"I can open any safe," he growled.

"Without gettin' caught?" Mrs. Lovett questioned.

"Yes," Mr. Todd said.

"S'wot thought, ya crook," she goaded. "Mr. T, yeh can do better than me about as far as I can run in a corset!"

"Anyone you can lick, I can lick faster," he said, almost childishly. He was advancing on her again and Mrs. Lovett found the need to escape around the side of the counter, putting it between them. They began the game of 'keep the counter between them' as Mr. Todd continued to follow her around it.

"I can lick _anyone_ faster than you," Mrs. Lovett boasted.

"With a razor?" he said with a devilish grin, his best friend whipped out of the holister at his hip. Mrs. Lovett swallowed, watching the razor gleam in the sun light.

"Nope," she said weakly.

"As I said, pet," he murmured. "Sooner or later, I'm greater than you. Now, if you would be so kind, my laundry?"

"Right," she said softly, rolling her eyes heaven wards as she started towards the bake house doors, where the tub waited to be filled with water, where she would wash Mr. Todd's laundry, thus resulting in getting him off her back.

She paused at the turn of the hall and glanced back at him. "Mr. T?" she asked.

He paused at the turn of the door way back to his shop, glancing back. "Wot?"

"I can give birth." She said with a wild grin flashing across her lips. There was a pause in which Mr. Todd looked at her with wild, wide eyes, as if he'd gotten their little battle moments early. After a moment, there was a single second that Mrs. Lovett thought she say the flash of a smile across his face before he was gone up the stairs to his barber shop, his foot steps hard on the steps.


End file.
